If you’ve ever driven down the I-5 through Irvine, you’ve seen them. Those massive, lonely hangars rising out of the flatland like ghosts of a different era. That’s El Toro Marine Corps Air Station, or at least what’s left of it. For over fifty years, this patch of dirt was the heartbeat of American air power on the West Coast. Now? It’s a massive park, a construction site, and a source of endless local political bickering.
But it’s more than just a big empty space.
Honestly, the history of El Toro is basically the history of modern Orange County. Before the F/A-18 Hornets were screaming overhead, this was just miles of lima bean fields. James Irvine II sold the land to the government for a pittance during World War II because he wanted to help the war effort. It grew into a master jet base. It became the place where presidents landed—Air Force One touched down here constantly because it was the closest secure runway to Richard Nixon’s "Western White House" in San Clemente.
The Rise and Fall of a Master Jet Base
When the base opened in 1943, it was a rush job. We needed pilots. We needed them fast. By the time the 1950s rolled around, El Toro was the "Master Jet Base" for the Marine Corps’ Western Area. This wasn't some sleepy outpost. It was a city. Thousands of Marines lived there. They spent their money in Santa Ana and Costa Mesa. They raised families in the brand-new suburbs of Tustin and Irvine.
Then came 1993.
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The Base Realignment and Closure (BRAC) Commission decided El Toro wasn't needed anymore. You've gotta imagine the panic that set in. This base was a massive economic engine. When it officially decommissioned in 1999, it left a 4,700-acre hole in the middle of one of the most expensive real estate markets in the world.
That’s when the real drama started.
The Great Airport War
You can't talk about El Toro Marine Corps Air Station without talking about the "Airport War." It was nasty. For a decade, Orange County was split down the middle. One side wanted to turn the base into a massive commercial airport to rival LAX. They argued it was necessary for the economy. The other side—mostly the people living in the surrounding Irvine neighborhoods—lost their minds. They didn't want jumbo jets roaring over their multi-million dollar backyards every six minutes.
They fought in the courts. They fought at the ballot box. Measure S, Measure W—it was a dizzying array of initiatives. Eventually, the "Great Park" vision won out. Instead of runways and terminals, we got the Orange County Great Park. Well, we got some of it.
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What’s Actually Left at El Toro Today?
If you go there today, it's a weird mix of the past and the future. The most iconic thing is the Great Park Balloon. It’s a giant orange tethered helium balloon that takes you 400 feet up. From up there, you can see the old taxiways. You can see the bones of the base.
- The Hangars: Hangar 244 is still there. It’s been preserved and used for events. These things are colossal. Walking into one feels like entering a cathedral built for machines.
- The Runway Strips: Large sections of the runways were torn up to make way for the massive FivePoint housing developments, but you can still find patches of that thick, military-grade concrete.
- The Heritage Park: There’s a dedicated space with old aircraft on display, like the A-4 Skyhawk and the F-4 Phantom. It’s a nod to the guys who served here.
The soil, though, is a different story. Decades of maintaining jets means the ground wasn't exactly pristine. The EPA has spent years overseeing the cleanup of TCE (trichloroethylene) and other nasty chemicals used as degreasers. It’s a long, boring process of "pump and treat," but it’s the reason why some parts of the land took so long to develop.
The Ghost of Air Force One
There is a specific spot at El Toro Marine Corps Air Station that carries a lot of weight. It’s where Richard Nixon boarded his final flight as President. On August 9, 1974, after resigning, he flew from D.C. to El Toro. There are famous photos of him walking across the tarmac, looking defeated but stoic, headed toward his home in San Clemente.
It was also the primary arrival point for Operation Babylift at the end of the Vietnam War. In 1975, thousands of orphaned Vietnamese children arrived here. Marines were literally carrying babies off planes. It was a heavy, emotional time that cemented the base's place in international history, not just local lore.
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Why People Still Care
Why do we keep talking about a base that closed over 25 years ago?
Because the transition from military to civilian use is never clean. It's messy. Every time a new housing tract goes up on the old perimeter, people argue about traffic. Every time a new sports complex opens, people complain about the cost. But honestly, it’s a miracle it isn't just a giant concrete slab.
The Great Park is slowly—very slowly—becoming what was promised. There are soccer fields that draw thousands of kids every weekend. There’s a world-class ice rink where the Anaheim Ducks train. There are wild canyons being restored.
Practical Advice for Visiting
If you're heading out to explore the old El Toro Marine Corps Air Station land, don't just show up and expect a guided tour of barracks. Most of that is gone.
- Check the Balloon Schedule: It doesn't fly if it's too windy. Always check the weather or the Great Park website before you make the drive. It’s the best way to see the scale of the base.
- Visit the Palm Court Arts Complex: This is where they’ve repurposed some of the military buildings. It’s got a great "reclaimed" vibe and often has photo exhibits about the base's history.
- Walk the Perimeter Trail: If you want to see the scale, walk the trails. You’ll see the contrast between the shiny new Irvine homes and the weathered, fenced-off military remnants.
- The Aviation Museum: It’s small, but the Flying Leatherneck Aviation Museum (which moved but has roots in the area’s history) and the on-site displays are worth 30 minutes of your time.
The story of El Toro isn't over. It’s just in its second act. It went from bean fields to a frontline military installation to a suburban experiment. It’s a reminder that land in California is never just land—it’s a battlefield for ideas, memories, and a whole lot of concrete.
Actionable Insights for History Buffs and Residents
- Research the Archives: The Library of Congress and the Orange County Archives hold thousands of declassified photos of the base in its prime. If you live in a "Great Park" home, there's a high chance you can find a photo of what was standing on your lot in 1960.
- Monitor the Cleanup Reports: If you are a resident or looking to buy in the area, the EPA’s Superfund site page for El Toro provides transparent, updated data on groundwater remediation. It’s the best way to get facts over neighborhood rumors.
- Support Veterans Groups: The VFW and other local Marine Corps leagues still hold events to honor the "El Toro Marines." Connecting with these groups provides a perspective you won't find on a commemorative plaque.
- Attend City Council Meetings: The development of the remaining 2,000+ acres is still being debated. If you want a say in how the old runways are used—whether for more housing or more green space—the Irvine City Council is where those decisions happen.